


By By, Lully Lullay

by LateStarter58



Series: Everlasting Song: the Tom and Rosie story [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Baby POV, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: This is the fluffiest fluff I have come up with to date. Don’t read it if you find slightly silly POVs intolerable, or if you find such saccharine sweetness threatens diabetes… Sorry. But I thought, ‘what the hell, it’s Christmas!’  Baby J is 9 months or so now…





	By By, Lully Lullay

I don’t like these things. They smell funny. And Mummy doesn’t like them either: she’s always holding me too tight and she feels tense and I know she’s upset. It’s worse when Daddy’s not here, like now. He can make everything better.

But so can Mummy, when she sings to me. She sings me to sleep all the time. She’s doing that now, really softly, so she doesn’t wake the grumpy grown-ups in here. I don’t like them much, except for that pretty lady who brought Mummy her drink and my dinner. I do like my dinner. Oatmeal and apple today she said. It feels funny in my mouth still, and when I get given a new thing to try I pull faces they both laugh at.

Too much.

_This thing she’s singing*, it’s new. The words are funny. I like it. Looleeloolay…_

Mummy sings a lot, so does Daddy, but he’s not as good as her, and he keeps stopping to talk to me. Mummy finishes the song first, but Daddy talks ALL THE TIME. Except when he snores. He wakes me up doing that. Especially when we are lying down on the sofa or the bed. He likes to cuddle and he needs me. Mummy says he works hard and sometimes he falls asleep and SNORES. I don’t cry though. I like the noise it makes, especially when I am on his tummy and I FEEL it. It tickles. Like his whiskers. I like them too.

He tells me stories. I love his stories. I want Daddy to tell me one NOW. He can be all the people and all the animals and I love the sound of his voice. He can be Baloo and scary Shere Khan and all of them. He reads to me sometimes and he talks A LOT. He uses BIG WORDS. I like it, even when I don’t understand them. Mummy says he’s the best Daddy in the world and she’s always right.

One day, he asked me if I was crying for England and St. George. I don't know what he meant, I was just very hungry. He’s funny.

My tummy feels weird. Mummy gave me that horrid bottle to suck on when we got on. I was in my car seat. I don’t like it much, and I hate that bottle. It feels wrong in my mouth, and it smells funny, not like Mummy.  But Mummy said I had to stay there until the light went off or something. I didn’t understand what she meant. I cried a bit and the man opposite complained. Mummy said sorry, she asked him to wait, told him I’d be OK once she could hold me. He wasn’t nice to my Mummy. I gave him a stare.

Now she’s cuddling me and I’m OK. I’ve had my dinner and I’ve had my suckle and I am sleepy. She is still singing that funny song, about a little child and children and men and it sounds so sad.

_This poor youngling four whooo we two sing…Bye bye_

I miss my Daddy. He is strong and tall and he makes me laugh and he smells of Daddy and when he holds me I can touch the sky. He dances and makes me laugh and Mummy laughs when he cuddles her. I know Mummy misses him too. She told me he’ll be home soon, that he has to stay just a bit longer, but I know she isn’t happy about it. We have all been in our nice little house by the trees, and Daddy goes out every day and comes back later all tired. 

Who will send him to sleep if I’m not there? Who will he cuddle on the sofa? I should have left him Bunwab. He loves him, he always plays with his ears.

I think I’ve been asleep. Mummy too, I hope. She is tired, I can see. She sings to me when she is tired. Or scared. I feel it when she is scared. She doesn’t like travelling without Daddy. Now she is talking, telling me that Uncle Jimmy is meeting us and taking us to Granny’s. I like Granny’s house. It is warm and she sings too, and there are lovely smells and her voice is kind and I love her. She tells me about Daddy, stories about when he was little like me. I miss my Daddy when he’s not there.

I love my Granny.

THIS is horrible. I want my nice mat, not this plastic thing, which is slippery and Mummy is holding me too tight because she is scared. I peed on the wall. It was horrible in there. I want to go back to Daddy. I am crying and Mummy sings that song and I feel a bit better.

_Hair rod the king in his ray jing_

Now she is cuddling me close and I can suckle and she is talking. I smell her and I feel her voice and she is looking at me. She tells me this is special, that we are going home because it is ‘Crissmess’. That there will be lights and trees and presents and I will be happy at Granny’s house. I look at her and I rub my hand on Bunwab. I love my Mummy. She’s special. Daddy told me. He told me I have to look after her, so I try to tell her it will be OK. I think she understands. She kisses me and whispers to me.

Now she is changing my clothes, putting some different, tight and very soft things on. There’s a hat too. She say’s it’s going to be cold in London. I can’t remember cold. Do I know cold? I like the hat. It smells of Daddy.

I miss my Daddy. Mummy says it again.

_He’ll be home for Crissmess, James._

Then she sings.

_By, by, lully, lullay._

_* **Coventry Carol**_


End file.
